


Conflicts and Interests

by Sybrant



Series: Viking AU [1]
Category: Troy (2004) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, F/M, M/M, Rape, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sybrant/pseuds/Sybrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is language really the barrier it seems to be? aka... Viking!Erik. KU/OB, EB/OB</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conflicts and Interests

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Notes: This story contains angst, non-con, threesomes and het. Please don’t be put off …if you don’t like it just skip it.

I hate this country. 

In my homeland some called me a hero. ‘Here rides Eric the Brave’ they would call. People would smile as I passed; the favourite of my fathers’ sons. My younger brother Karl is not as well loved. His skills in battle cannot be denied, for he is extremely talented, slaying many a foe. Unfortunately his ferocity in the field is the same in bedroom. He has taken many…daughters, wives….even sons, but has yet to take himself a wife. To take someone in battle is a spoil of war; to take your kins’ family is unforgivable. Yet he is forgiven…for he is the son of the chief. I have yet to take a wife also, yet I know what I must not do. 

In my homeland many now call me a fool. My idiot brother ravaged the wife of a rival chief in his lust. The chief in-turn demanded my father hand over my brother, to serve vengeance on him. My father did not….and neither did I. We fought long but in the end our village was burnt to the ground. Our women were taken, our cattle slaughtered and many kin died…..including my father. With few options left I took our remaining kin and headed west to the land of the Anglos.

It rains often in this place. The grass is wet beneath my feet, the sky dark. The nights grow colder with each passing of the moon. I hate this county….as it reminds me so much of home….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feet pounded across the ground; the thunderous sound echoing through the still night. Breath came in harsh gasps; lungs desperately trying to feed screaming muscles as limbs propelled forwards.

Winter was fast approaching and Eric was concerned. The forced migration of his clan could not have occurred at a worst time, as they now found themselves in a foreign land with only temporary shelter and no provisions to wait out the winter months. That was the main reason for tonights’ raid. The men hoped to acquire food, building materials and women to warm their beds at night and cook during the day. If tonight was unsuccessful they would just have to try again. 

Eric prayed to Odin that tonight they would emerge victorious as he ran into the village. Though late at night the villagers had been forewarned by the sound of the approaching invaders, though many had yet to rise to put up much of a resistance. Eric swung his sword, slicing through the chest of a large bearded man in his night clothes. Pressing on he tuned out the cries and screams as the thatch building were set alight, leading his men through the village, determined to eliminate any resistance before searching for supplied. Eric gasped as he felt a blade swipe across his back, stumbling forwards onto his knees. Rolling quickly to the right he narrowly avoided being impaled as a sword struck down hard where he had just fallen. Ignoring the burning along his back he surged to his feet, blocking the downward arch of the blade once again aiming for his head. Glancing at his foe he noticed the boy was clad only in a long tunic, hair spilling in curls around his face from where it had come loose from its tie. The boy was lithe in form, little challenge for Eric, though his eyes shone with determination. 

Deciding to take the lead Eric swung at the boys’ midriff, mildly surprised when he found his blade quickly blocked, even more surprised when he suddenly found himself on the defensive. Backing up he struggled to block the furious blows that reigned upon him; if events weren’t so dire he’d have probably have enjoyed the challenge. As it was however he was here for a purpose, one that was taking longer to fulfil with each clash of the blades. Gritting his teeth he tried to slow his retreat, attempting to push the youth back, only to grunt in annoyance when his ploy did not payout. 

Eric eyes widened in surprise as he felt his leg hit something…suddenly he was falling, his sword slipping from his hand as he impacted the ground. Scrabbling backwards he waited for the blow to fall….only it didn’t.

Looking up he was surprised to see the boy frozen, blade in the air, a look of shock on his face. The boys’ head tilted down, eyes fixing on the blade tip visible through his chest. He lowered his sword, his free hand slowly rising to touch the red liquid soaking through his tunic. He lurched forwards as the blade was suddenly pulled back, the tip disappearing back through his chest. With a grunt the youth dropped to his knees, eyes filled with confusion locking with Erics’ before he toppled sideways to the ground. He gasped raggedly for a few seconds before his chest stilled, eyes clouding over as death took him.

Eric looked up, mouth agape as a figure loomed over him. 

‘Careful there brother. Wouldn’t be fit for our chief to be stuck by a mere boy now would it.’ Eric grabbed hold Karls’ outstretched hand, pulling himself to his feet. Glancing down at the still body he retrieved his sword before striding back towards the continuing skirmish.

‘Bit of a waste though really…’ Karl added, ‘Fine looking lad…’

Eric didn’t answer, instead throwing himself back into battle, determined not to think of the way the growing puddle beneath the still form had seeped into the boys hair, turning sun kissed blond to pink, nor the way those green eyes had locked with his before death spirited him away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun rose above the destroyed village, rays filtered through the smoke of smouldering embers….all that remained of many of the houses. Most of the Norsemen had returned to their camp, arms laden with supplies or struggling bodies of future bed mates. Karl hadn’t even waited that long, the sounds of screams and lust heavy grunts echoed around in the silence of the morning. Eric watched as his brother repeatedly pounded into a young girl on the muddy ground amid the carnage left from the night before. One of his large callused hands roughly gripped an exposed breast while the other supported his weight as he pushed into the writhing body. The girls’ thighs jerked with each brutal invasion of her body, hands scratching and hitting in a desperate attempt to end the assault on her body. Tears streamed down her face as she turned her head, eyes locking with Erics’ in a desperate plea. She screamed, voice horse with misuse as she realised there was no help for her, her gaze returning to the brightening sky. 

Eric turned away from the rutting duo and wandered across the village, his lazy path unconsciously leading back to his site of near defeat. The boy still lay there, not that he had really expected him to have moved. Squatting, he gently ran his hand over the cool grey skin, pushing the blood encrusted curls away from the still face. Karl was right, the boy was beautiful…even in death. 

Eric tensed as a scream was suddenly cut off; Karl had obviously finished. Glancing over he watched Karl re-sheath his sword as he stood up, tying the laces to his trousers as he headed over. Standing, Eric winced as un-known injuries suddenly came to life; his head spinning slightly. Dropping to one knee he planted his hands on the ground, willing the world to stop spinning around him. He felt Karl drop next to him, strong hands pulling him upright.

‘Eric…where are you hurt?’ Eric tried to focus on the swimming face in front of him, but as the adrenaline of the fight wore off he found it was a struggle to simply stay awake.

‘Ev…everywhere. Karl…I can’t…’ Eric trailed off as he detected the undeniable sound of horses approaching. He tried to struggle to his feet, only to fall back so he was lying on the ground. There was no way he would be going anywhere. Pushing at Karl he tried to get him to leave….he was far too heavy for the slighter man to carry.

‘Karl…..go….’ Karl shook his head, grunting in annoyance as he was once again unable to pull Eric to his feet. Thinking quickly he grabbed at Erics’ fur cloak, ripping it from his body. He also hastily tore off the spherical broach….the emblem of Erics’ chiefdom for their people. 

‘Wh…what are y…you doing!’ Grabbing the heavy cloak he slung it over his shoulder before turning to the dead boy. Prying stiff fingers apart he withdrew the youths’ sword, placing it instead in Erics’ hand before taking his brothers sword and tucking it through his belt.

‘Just lay still. I can’t carry you so you will have to stay here. This way they may mistake you for a villager and heal you…then you can come back to the camp.’ Eric paused, laying a tender kiss on Erics’ forehead. ‘Stay well brother. We will see each other soon’. And with that he was gone. Eric lay still, heart pounding as he heard surprised shouts and running feet. Closing his eyes he tried not to panic, smiling as the darkness finally enveloped him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Noises….Eric could hear noises. Just a commotion of sounds at first, each eventually clarifying till he could identify the different sources. A dog barking, rain hitting a roof, children laughing, a male voice very nearby….

Eric started as he felt something cold and damp gently caress his forehead; the male voice changing pitch, soothing him. Opening his eyes he blinked, the room slowly coming into focus. He could see a thatched roof above him and feel a soft bed beneath him. It took a lot of effort to drag his gaze towards the form sat next to him on the bed but he thanked Odin for the strength to do so. 

He was….beautiful. Long brown hair curled down his face, partially tied back at the base of his skull; deep brown eyes emphasised by dark lashes locked with his…surprise and concern evident in their depth. His lips, Gods…his lips…, silently moved, pursing….

Eric blinked as he realised the lithe youth tending to him was speaking, and that he had not understood a single word he said. His brain suddenly caught a flaw in Karls’ marvellous plan. How could he pretend to be a villager when he couldn’t speak their language? 

Eric groaned in defeat, which prompted another round of soothing babble from the charming young man sat next to him. He attempted to smile, though from the look of panic that crossed the face before him it had most likely been a grimace. Raising his lead like arm he patted the youths knee in what he hoped was a calming manner, momentarily taken aback when he was rewarded with the brightest smile he had ever seen. His eyes shifted to the far side of the room where an elderly woman appeared to be stirring something over the central fireplace, from the smell some kind of stew. Two young children ran around, laughing as they played. Eric squinted, trying to focus….two little girls, twins by the looks of it, maybe 4 summers old. Behind them he could just make out two horses, a cow and several pigs stabled in the second part of the house. 

Shifting, he tried to push himself upright, which he eventually managed with help from the brown haired boy. A cold draft suddenly swept across his bare chest; nipples hardening in response. Glancing about he noticed his tunic on the ground, obviously removed so the boy could tend to his wounds easier. The old woman poured some stew into two clay dishes and wandered over to the sleeping area, speaking to boy before handing the bowls over. Eric took one of the bowls and slowly began to eat the broth of vegetables and meat, his stomach protesting slightly at first but quickly adapting to the comforting feeling of warm food. He watched as the old woman laid a gentle kiss on the youths head before heading over to the giggling girls. Mentally checking his wounds he was surprised to realise that nothing seemed too serious, his light headedness from earlier most likely a result of blood loss and having had little rest for the last turn of the moon. 

One of the little girls suddenly appeared at the boys’ side, tugging impatiently on his trouser leg until he placed his bowel on the floor, swinging her up onto his lap. Slowly chewing on a piece of tough meat, Eric smiled as the little girl chattered away to the brown haired boy, poking him in the chest with a small finger as she emphasised some point. The young man laughed; a bright airy sound that made Erics’ cock twitch with desire. The little girl squealed in delight as she was tickled by long fingers, scrambling back down to the ground before running over to the old woman who had prepared two more bowels of the stew.

He desperately wanted to ask the youth where he was, how long he had been unconscious, and would he mind a quick rut out back…..none of which he could say without exposing himself. Smiling as the boy jabbered away he quickly surveyed the room, locating the door and mentally calculating the best way to leave without attracting too much attention. He started as the boy touched he leg, a look of expectance on the attractive face. Eric fought the urge to flee…what was he supposed to do? Deciding to just go with it he nodded….relieved when the boy appeared appeased by the action. Handing his bowl back he allowed the boy to lie him back down, realising he must have somehow indicated he wanted to sleep. He was mildly surprised when the boy joined him on the bed, shuffling closer before drawing a tattered blanket over them both in some attempt to share body heart. Through silted eyes Eric watched the old woman feed and bathe the two girls for bed, before they too joined them on the straw mat. He idly wondered where the men of the household were, before realising that if this house was situated near the village they attacked then they men were most likely keeping watch. Glancing at the sleeping beauty before him he wondered why he too was not out guarding the area, he was definitely old enough appearing to have at least seen 16 summers…if not more. Running his gaze the length of the youths’ body he quickly decided he didn’t care, closing his eyes as sleep descended over him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house was silent, night having descended fully as Eric awoke. Waiting for his eyes to adjust he shivered, his body suddenly becoming aware of the drop in temperature that had occurred. He could hear the soft breathing of the two little girls behind him, as well as the gentle snores of the old woman. Shifting, his gaze shot down to where the young man was snuggled up against his body, Erics’ own arm wrapped around the thin waist, holding him close. He could feel the warm breath against his shoulder with each movement of the boys’ chest; feel his wild curls against his cheek as he tilted his head. By the Gods he could have stayed here forever, but he had responsibilities. As much as he loved his brother he did not want to leave him in charge for too long.

Slowly untangling himself he slipped off the bed; suppressing a groan as his back flared up, stumbling forward on weak legs. Grabbing his discarded tunic off the floor he winced as the material ghosted over the wound on his back before settling into place. He knew he wasn’t healed yet, not by a long shot but it was too risky to remain. Quietly shuffling forwards he snagged a fur off the floor, wrapping it around his shivering form as he approached the door. Pulling the door open he glanced back at the sleeping figures one last time….only jump backwards in shock when he spotted the brown haired boy standing not two paces from him. Erics’ mind frantically screamed at him to run…to kill the boy…anything to allow his escape….but he couldn’t. The boy hadn’t moved, nor made a sound. He just stood there with a slight smile and a quizzical look in his eyes. Eric tried not to flinch as the boy took hold of his arm, trying to lead him back to the sleeping pallet. Shaking his head Eric pulled back, gesturing out of the door towards the village outskirts. The boy appeared a little confused at first, but in the end he grabbed the larger mans hand and led him through the door. Eric had to fight every natural instinct he possessed to allow himself to be led this way. He hated this feeling, the fact he was totally at this youths’ mercy right now. One sound from those pretty lips and the whole village would come crashing down on him.

They slowly made their way through the morning mist, running from building to building and hiding when a villager patrolled past, only to swiftly continue on once again. Eric felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from him as they emerged at the end of the settlement; ahead lay freedom. Turning to the boy that had led him here he noticed bright eyes watching him, a huge smile splitting the beautiful face. Resistance crumbling he gave into the urge that had clawed at him all night. Gently taking hold of the boys’ arms he pulled him tight against his chest, tilting his head until lips met. He felt the body he held tense, limbs preparing for sudden flight, only to relax once again. Lips started to move against his, hesitant at first, quickly becoming more demanding. He felt slender hands on his chest, fisting the loose tunic and pulling him closer. Eric gently flicked his tongue against the boys’ full lower lip, grinning as the mouth opened eagerly. Tongues engaged in a silent battle; the youth groaned and strained against him. As much as Eric wanted to stay he knew he couldn’t. Dawn was fast approaching and his disappearance would soon be noted. He hoped the boy would not be punished in anyway, but it was far too risky right now to take him with him. 

Pulling back Eric tried not to grin as the brown haired youth protested at the loss of contact. Pointing at himself he told him his name, ‘Eric’. It took the boy a short while to realise what exactly it was he was trying to tell him, but before long he pointed at his own chest… ‘Orlando’. 

Orlando. Eric pulled him close once more before turning and hurrying down the track, until the mist drew around his retreating figure, obscuring him from view. Orlando remained where he was, staring the empty track with a slight grin on his face, fingers lightly tracing kiss swollen lips. Laughing he slowly walked back into the settlement, villagers’ he passed ignoring him as he headed back to the house. Climbing back onto the sleeping pallet he continued to grin to himself, the sweet memories of a kiss from a man called Eric replaying in his mind till morning broke. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orlando awoke to the sound of angry voices and the girls crying. His eyes shot open as large hands suddenly grabbed him; crying out as he was dragged from the bed along the floor. He could hear his grandmother screaming his name, his sisters sobbing into the folds of her dress as she tried to get to him but was prevented. He winced as he was grabbed by his hair, pulling him roughly to his feet to face the demanding face of his father. Questions and accusations were yelled at him, his fathers face turning red with the effort. Orlando cried out as his hair was roughly pulled again; he couldn’t answer. There were too many questions, too fast; his voice had frozen in his throat. He wanted to answer his father, he really did but he was too confused! He didn’t understand the noise and the anger. 

Eventually the yelling stopped and Orlando was thrown roughly to the floor. Tears ran down his face; small keens of anguish escaped from his throat. Scrambling across the dirt floor he threw himself into the waiting arms of his grandmother, sobbing inconsolably as he buried his face into her dress; her hands running through his hair soothing him. He heard the door slam as his father left, yet he continued to cling tightly to the rough material of the skirt, until his grandmother managed to gently coax him up and onto the bed. He lay down, his head in her lap as she continued to slowly caress his hair, singing softly until he was once again calm.

‘My poor Orlando…Did he hurt you?’

Orlando shook his head; he had been more scared than hurt. ‘No grandmother….He was so mad…’

He heard her sigh above him. ‘He wanted to know what happened to the man they brought here.’

‘He wanted to leave so I took him out of the village. Was that wrong?’

‘No child. It wasn’t wrong. Your father was just angry as he had wanted to talk to him. He knows it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know.’ Orlando sat up as his sisters approached timidly, tracks of tears dried on their faces. Reaching down he picked up Mary, placing her on his lap as Anne scrambled onto her grandmothers now vacant lap. Pulling the little body close he gently hugged her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, desperately seeking comfort from her older brother. He rubbed her back gently as she buried her face in his hair, small hands fisting clumps of his tunic. 

Orlando had always known he was different from his older brothers….from everyone else. He wasn’t stupid…it just took him a while to understand things sometimes. And when things got heated, like with his father earlier his mind tended to panic, unable to rationalise what was going on around him. His mother had called him her special boy. The other boys of the village had taken joy in taunting Orlando for as long as he could remember; he was always the smallest one, the slowest one. After one particularly bad encounter Orlando had wept in his mothers arms, begging to know why he was always so stupid about everything. Rocking him gently on her lap she told him of his early childhood; how as an infant he would get terrible fits, his body thrashing uncontrollably for no reason the healer could find. After one such fit around the age of six he had fallen unconscious and not woken for a week. She told him she had been so happy when he had awoken she had cried all day, hugging his small body to her as she did now. Orlando hadn’t had a fit since that day, but as he grew it had become apparent that not all was right with the cheery child. His mother didn’t care, she always had time to spend with him when others did not, lavishing him with kisses and hugs….until she got sick. His father had never been close to him, but since his mother died two winters ago his father had become positively ill at ease with his presence. His other brothers had all married and left home, leaving him at home with his two baby sisters. It was unlikely that this would ever really change due to his…special nature. 

That made the fact that Eric had kissed him all the more miraculous in his eyes. One of the reasons he had felt so drawn to Eric to begin with was that older man had not seemed to mind his babbling; rather just patiently sat listening and nodding. The older man hadn’t teased him, or belittled him in anyway; he had been so calm and patient that Orlando had felt instantly at peace with him. It was only during the night, when Eric had mumbled in his sleep had Orlando finally understood why. The words had been unfamiliar, strange sounding to his ears. Orlando had lain there, face scrunched up in concentration as he had tried to decipher the foreign language, before realisation suddenly hit him. The older man hadn’t purposefully been patient with him after all; he simply hadn’t understood him. The man who had held him so close all night was not one of the villagers; but rather one of the Norsemen, one of the invaders his father had spoken so venomously about earlier in the day. Orlando felt he should have been worried, should have raised the alarm if his father was to be believed, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. The man had not shown any signs of malice towards him or his family; in fact for some unknown reason he had felt totally safe enveloped in his arms. That was also why he had felt no reason to worry about helping the man leave. His father had charged Orlando with his care when he had returned with him that morning, having found him barely conscious among the dead of the other settlement not far from here. He had not said anything about the man being a danger, nor about keeping him here, though Orlando seriously doubted he could have managed that if he tried.

Mary shifted to sit on his knees, feet swinging and banging heedlessly against his shins. Orlando smiled as he watched the two girls clamber to the ground, hair flying behind them as they ran around giggling, their earlier upset soon forgotten. Heading over to the animals he led them out to the small pasture outback, the horses especially having become restless as the storm from the night before had dispersed. He watched as they excitedly pranced around the enclosure, tossing their manes and stamping their feet; happy to be outside again. 

Turning to head back to the house he suddenly flinched as something impacted the back of his head. Touching his hair his fingers came back muddy, just as another mud ball impacted his back. Spinning he turned to face the direction of the assault, cringing as he spotted one of the village boys, Bern, marching towards him. He tried not to seem too worried but he could feel his eyes beginning to water, his heart beating faster the closer the boy came till he would stood directly in front of him. Bern suddenly lashed out, pushing Orlando hard on the chest, causing him to slip backwards on the wet ground, falling onto his rump. 

‘Idiot boy,’ Bern sneered at Orlandos’ prone figure, ‘my father told me you let that man go. He saw you returning to the village last night. He said you were laughing to yourself like the mad child you are. I do not see what you could possibly have to be happy about. Your whore of a mother is dead, your father wishes you dead and I am sure your fool of a grandmother will not be far behind; then you will be all alone.’ Orlando staggered to his feet, scrubbing furiously at his eyes as the tears started to fall. 

‘See! You’re too feeble to even stand up for yourself! Instead you cry like a baby! Nobody will want you Orlando, you are too weak.’ Bern stared at Orlando for a few minutes longer before turning and heading back the way he came. Orlando scrubbed at his clothes, attempting to remove the mud from the back of his tunic and trousers; sniffing as his nose started to run. He didn’t want to make his grandmother worry; she had enough to take care of since his mother passed. Signing to himself he slowly made his way back towards the house, Berns’ words echoing in his ears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eric couldn’t believe it. It had taken him all day to make it back to camp; carefully avoiding other travellers and travelling cross country. The light had faded by the time he stumbled back into the camp only to find…..

‘Karl…’ Eric ground out his brothers name in annoyance. In the centre of the camp stood a temporary structure they had been using as a meeting and feasting hall; a structure that was currently filled to the brim with inebriated men and writhing bodies. Stumbling up the stairs he was met with a raucous chorus of greetings; wincing when someone slapped him on the back. The large hall was lit by a large central fireplace, the torches around the room apparently not having been lit this evening. Eric made his way across the room, stepping over a happy drunk singing on the floor. He passed a buxom woman who was screaming in glee, her large breasts bouncing erotically as she rode the man beneath her. Sidestepping round a group of men singing raunchy songs off key he found himself face to face with another group fucking against a table. A young boy was bent forward over the table; sucking the cock of the man who lay on the surface, while at the same time he was repeatedly impaled from behind, his feet leaving the floor with the force of each thrust. Eric watched them for a brief moment before heading deeper into the room; he could see Karl in the far corner, a blond head bobbing up and down in his lap. 

‘Brother!’ Karl sat up straighter, batting the boy out of the way as he pulled Eric into a firm embrace. ‘I knew you would return to us! Come look, I have a surprise for you!’

Eric held his ground, anger brimming at the surface.’ What is this Karl?’ he gestured at the mass orgy of writhing bodies and staggering men behind him. ‘What happened to stockpiling supplies Karl. We need to be preparing for winter not….’

‘Brother! Relax. This is just a small celebration…the men needed to unwind. We have plenty of time to gather more supplies. We already have another raid planned for tomorrow night so just enjoy your self. Here…I have a present for you.’ Karl waved over two serving girls, who had so far remained surprising un-molestered. Karl sat back down, pulling the blond man back over his impressive erection, which he once again eagerly began to suckle. Eric stared at the two girls, both so similar in appearance they could have been twins. Both had curly brown hair, braids woven throughout in a simple yet practical design. The shorter of the two had dark brown eyes, while the taller girls’ were a lighter tone.

‘See brother, I have saved them just for you. I know your preference for brunettes…’ Karl stretched back lazily, wrapping one of his hands in the mass of blond hair hovering over his lap.

Eric locked eyes with the taller of the two girls, motioning her forwards. Grabbing the front of her simple dress he pulled downwards, easily ripping the material and baring her ample bosom. She jumped at the sudden motion, attempting to move backwards only to be thwarted by a strong hand in her hair pulling her closer instead; lips smashed together roughly. Eric released the girls hair, instead grabbing her buttocks with both hands, slamming pelvises together. He groaned as his erection began to throb at the tantalising friction caused by his trousers. Pushing the girl away he dragged the shorter one forward, ripping her clothes from her body before dropping to his knees to suckle at a pert breast, nipping and licking the dusky nipple that was hardening beneath his tongue. He heard the girl gasp, her body pushing closer to him as she dragged her hands through his hair. 

Standing, he hastily shed his clothes, wincing as the rough material scraped across his back. Dropping his trousers he sighed as his throbbing cock was set free, the cool air ghosting over cum moistened head. Lying back on the furs behind him he motioned the girls forward till they too joined him on the ground. Grabbing the shorter of the two round the waist he dragged her up his body till she was straddling his face. Tilting his head he extended his tongue, slowly licking the moist area exposed to him. He felt her buck slightly as his tongue ghosted over the tiny nub tucked away at the top of her womanhood. Flicking his tongue again over the sensitive area he heard her breathing increase, body taught as if fighting for control. Grinning he pulled back, laying the wench on her back before diving in once more. As he was now kneeling it allowed the taller girl greater access to his weeping man hood. He felt her slide under his body, small hands encircling the base of his cock before liquid heat enveloped the head. He groaned as he felt the girls’ mouth sliding along the length of his erection, tongue cleverly swirling around the engorged head. Turning his attention back to the dark eyed girl in front of him he continued to lick and suckle to small nub, the youths’ body beginning to writhe amongst the pile of furs. Bracing himself on one arm he slowly inserted a finger into the moist channel, grinning when the girl cried out in rapture. He felt lithe fingers once again gripping his hair as he continued to lick her whilst fucking her with his fingers. Her body tensed as orgasm ripped through her, screaming out pure pleasure. 

Pulling back from the spent body he swung around, grabbing the other girl around the waist. Pushing her onto her back he placed his body between her thighs, before pushing forward. She threw her head back, crying out in pain and pleasure as the large organ pierced her body. Shifting slightly Eric began to slowly rock his hips forward, each thrust seeming long and deep. He watched mesmerised as the breasts heaved in front of him with each ragged breath taken. Rubbing a callused finger over a straining nipple he lightly pinched, earning a strangled gasp from swollen lips. Grabbing the girl by the hips he pulled her even closer; allowing her to lock her legs behind his back. Speeding up the pace each thrust now earned a small whimper as the base of his cock rubbed against the sensitive nub. He could feel thighs constricting around him as he rocked into her body, her cries increasing in sound till she too climaxed. Pulling out of the pliant body he quickly turned once again to the dark eyed girl, flipping her on to her front and pulling her back onto her knees. Hastily spreading the thighs he plunged forwards, pounding roughly into the willing body, he was very close to finding his release. Grabbing her round the waist he violently pulled her back to meet each thrust, his balls slapping against her with the ferocity of the movement. Crying out in release, he empted himself into the silky channel, continually thrusting as he road out the chaos of sensations. Dripping with sweat he slowly dropped forward, laying his head on the girls heaving back. 

Eventually regaining his senses Eric turned to thank his brother, sure that he had stayed through to enjoy the show. He was therefore not too surprised when he found Karl taking his own turn with the taller wench, pounding her roughly into the sweat soaked furs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day had passed in a blur; revelry from the night before demanding penance from those who partook in the lecherous activities. Eric still could not remember much after the two glorious wenches….except there had been drink…and possibly a rut with the blond haired boy? Shaking his head he gripped his sword tighter, quietly making his way through the tall grass at the edge of the settlement; the focus of tonights’ raid. He could still make out the hazy shape of men through the dimming light, stood conversing on the track-way, the reason they had opted to skirt around the side of the village, keeping their presence a secret for as long as possible. Something was wrong, Eric couldn’t figure out what exactly that was but it just felt….off. 

A flaming arrow shot into the air….that was the signal. Stealth no longer required, Eric picked up the pace, emerging from between two buildings and in to the sleepy village. A strangled shout erupted from the far side of the village, the sounds of swords meeting echoing through the still night air. More shouts sprung forth, those nearer this time as the central enclosure burst into life; torches carried high by villagers, spilling light across the dusty ground. Eric allowed his first opponent to approach him, after all, why waste the energy? He was a large man, bulkier than Eric but not as battle hardened. Deciding his weight would not act as an advantage in this case Eric drew the man into a quick skirmish, his nimbler footwork drawing the fight to a hasty close. The sounds of screams and swords clashing had quickly awoken the rest of the villagers, many of whom tried to flee to safety, increasing the chaos now surrounding him. Eric turned, swinging his blade round as someone jostled him from behind. He watched as it sliced neatly through the abdomen of a young woman; blood covering him as she dropped dead to the ground. He spared her only a brief glance before turning away. She was not the first woman he had killed and he doubted she would be the last. 

Slicing his way across the square he joined his brother Karl who was taunting a young boy, laughing as the youth attempted to stick him with a pitchfork. Soon tiring of the sport Karl grabbed hold of the weapon as it was once again thrust towards him, neatly pulling it, and the youth, forward till his blade had sunk into the boys’ chest. Pushing the drooping body off his sword with his foot he turned to Eric, grinning that maddening grin.

‘Brother! I am glad to see you have not fallen foul to any children with blades this night.’

‘And I see you still have not lost your love of battle. I am surprised you have not cornered yourself a comely partner yet!’ Karl laughed as he easily drove back a blade aimed for his head, slitting the throat of the surprised man with the greatest of ease. 

‘You know me too well brother! In fact I have already spotted my first conquest of the evening.’ And with that Karl had disappeared across the village square. The battle had already begun to die down; the villagers never lasting long against the more experienced invaders. Wiping his blade on the bottom of his tunic, Eric picked his way through to his men, the scavenging process beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orlando felt a hand on his shoulder roughly shaking him awake. Opening his bleary eyes he noticed his grandmother standing over him, though she had her gaze locked firmly locked on the door. Sitting up he suddenly realised he could hear noises outside; screams, shouts and the clang of metal on metal. Hastily pulling on his shoes he pulled his sisters to him, trying to calm their panicked breathing with shaking hands. He watched his grandmother slowly approach the door, pushing it open slightly in effort to see what was happening outside. He jumped as a body impacted the door, pushing it open and knocking his grandmother to the ground. 

Pushing his sisters behind him he slowly edged forwards as neither figure had yet to rise. Keeping a wary on the still man he knelt next to the old woman.

‘Grandmother?’ Reaching forwards he gently turned the old womans’ face towards him, cringing as his hand came back bloody. He felt his chest constrict painfully as he watched a pool gradually form beneath the grey-hair.

‘Grandmother….please…wake up. We have to leave…’ Orlando heard strained sobbing behind him and felt small hands grab the back of his tunic, faces turned from the scene in front of him. Staggering to his feet he tried to close the door, crying out in frustration when he was unable to do so. Looking down he noticed the man was currently lying across the threshold, blocking any movement. Grabbing hold of a leg he tried to pull the man backwards, groaning as the body barely moved. Dropping the limb he strode around to the mans head, instead placing his hands on the large shoulders, attempting to push him out of the door. 

Panicked screams shattered his concentration as he felt two small bodies attach themselves to his back; looking up he too cried out in fear. In the open doorway stood one of the invaders, his large body tense with battle lust; his chest heaving as he stared down at the three crying figures. Orlando span, grabbing hold of his sisters before retreating towards the back of the room. The large invader quickly followed, his blood covered hair glinting in the torch light, seeming more red than blond. Striding forwards he quickly cornered the cowering figures, revelling in their terror. Orlando tried to calm himself, he had to protect his sisters; yet the pounding of his heart in his chest was deafening, tears blurred his eyes as he gazed upon the blood soaked man. He tensed as the man shot forwards, screaming and kicking as he grabbed hold of Anne. He desperately tried to hold onto the small body but the other man was too strong, yanking the terrified child from his grasp. He screamed out, pushing Mary further behind him as the man reached forwards again, oblivious to the crying child he already held under one arm. In desperation Orlando threw himself against the invader, scratching and clawing at the mans face. The blond man dropped Anne in shock, her small form quickly darting back to her sisters side, and instead wrapped his large hands around Orlandos’ arms, drawing the boy back before hauling him against the wall. 

Orlando cried out as his head slammed backwards against the hard surface before dropping to the floor in a daze. He desperately tried to raise himself to his feet as he heard screams rise in pitch and saw the blurry figure of the man scoop up his sisters in large arms. Pulling himself to his knees he could only watch helplessly as their small bodies were carelessly tossed out of the door, screams enveloped by the noise of the fighting. With wide eyes he waited for the man to turn to him, only to blink in confusion as instead he rolled the dead man…and his grandmother out of the door before slamming it closed. Leaning on the wall heavily he pulled himself to his feet, thoughts whirling madly as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened….and that was happening. 

He watched as the man slowly turned to him, a wide grin splitting his face as he cockily sauntered forwards. Orlando choked out a sob as the man stepped closer, jumping as his sword was dropped to the floor with a clang. His eyes dropped to the discarded weapon, uncertain what exactly was happening. Did the man not mean to kill him? He returned his gaze to the invader with some trepidation, watching as he tossed aside his belt; reaching for the ties to his trousers. 

Orlando was not totally naive when it came to the joining of two people; his father having taken his mother many times, often whilst he and his siblings were in the room. He was also fairly certain that the man was withdrawing his rather large erection from his trousers as he wanted Orlando to do something about it. Orlando was positive however that he neither knew what to do, nor wanted any part of it. 

Backing up further, he edged his way along the wall, trying to place some distance between himself and the grinning man. Seeing his chance he quickly pushed away from the wall, evading grasping hands and heading towards the door. Grasping wildly for the handle he tried to pull the door open, only to be suddenly slammed into the wood from behind. He cried out, writhing in panic as he attempted to escape the firm body pushing against him. The man huskily whispered into his ear, grinding his hips against Orlandos buttocks as he ran his tongue along the young mans’ neck. Bucking wildly Orlando cried out as a large hand grabbed his hair, slamming his head against to door. Sagging, he had no control as the Norseman flung him over one shoulder, carrying him across the room before dropping him onto his back on the crude wooden table. He moaned, weakly trying to bat the mans hands away as he gripped the top of his trousers, easily stripping them off his legs which hung limply from the table. His tunic was dispatched with little fuss as well, his head spinning too much to put up much of a resistance. He winced as he was dragged closer to the edge, the rough wood scratching his back and buttocks. He tried to raise his head as he felt rough hands on his legs, raising them into the air till they leaned against fur covered shoulders. Closing his eyes he willed the pain in his head to stop; begging the Gods for help. His eyes flew open in surprise as he felt something large, round and moist press against his buttocks. Looking down his body in confusion he tried to see what it was the Norseman was doing, however the sudden wave of nausea prompted him to remain still. 

This soon changed however as he felt large hand on his hips pulling him closer; screaming out as a tearing pain suddenly erupted between his buttocks. Eyes flying open he watched in agonising shock as the huge man drew closer; the pain increasing as he appeared to be sinking into his body. Ignoring the pain in his head Orlando attempted to drag himself backwards, away from the foreign presence in his body; only to scream out again as he was forcibly dragged back to the blond man; once again impaling himself of the huge cock. Orlando sobbed brokenly as the man held on to him with a bruising grip; grunting as he began pounding into the unwilling body beneath him. He could feel the mans heavy sack slapping against his buttocks with each thrust; the force of which pushed him back slightly on the rough table surface. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shifting slightly the Karl laughed out loud as young man suddenly arched off the table, a cry of pleasure this time torn from his lips. He watched with amusement as puzzled eyes met his, confusion and sorrow swirling in their depths. By the Gods he loved taking a virgin. Pounding into the boy roughly he grinned to himself as the lithe body began to writhe beneath him; the boys cock quickly swelling with desire. Reaching round he flicked a callused finger over the swollen head, snorting as the boy screamed out. 

He heard the door open behind him; footsteps crunching on the dirt floor. Glancing to his left he saw his brother; a look of shock on his face as he stared at the boy. 

‘Don’t worry brother. You can take ago afterwards if you wish.’ Karl didn’t even break his pace as he watched his brother turn to him; continuing to impale himself between the pert buttocks.

‘This is the boy that healed me.’ Eric was frozen in place, aware he should do something to help the lad but at the same time extremely aroused by watching his brother violate the pretty youth.

‘Really?’ Karl glanced at the sweat soaked body he road, well aware that the boy had no notion that anyone else had even entered the room, as distracted as he was. ‘In that case then I may spare his life….in payment for returning you to us.’ Karl glanced again at his brother watching the youth. Sighing, he stopped his manic thrusting, withdrawing his throbbing cock from the tight passage. Eric looked at him in confusion at first, unsure why he had stopped. Glancing again at Orlando he suddenly knew why….

Ripping off his belt and sword he dropped them to the ground as he hastily pulled his trousers to his knees, freeing his weeping erection from their material prison. Placing himself between the panting youths shapely thighs he lifted Orlandos legs, wrapping them around his waist as he pushed into the tight channel. Orlando cried out in pain as he was breached once again, the swollen entrance tearing as Erics’ wider cock forced its’ way into his body. Eric groaned as he slide smoothly into the velvety channel, blood from the tears acting as a lubricant. Part of him knew it was wrong to do this, that he wanted Orlando to be more than war spoils; but the larger part of him ached to ravage the boy; the larger part wanted to fuck him through the table as he screamed out his name.

Looking up Eric locked eyes with Orlandos’ shocked gaze. Pulling back he once again slid slowly into Orlandos’ tight body; watching as the look of confusion was supplanted by need….and lust. Changing the angle of his thrusts he watched as Orlando fell back onto the table, face awash with pleasure as his penis caressed the small nub inside of the boy. Speeding up, he grunted as he started to pound into the wanton body writhing on the table surface; small keens issuing from pursed lips as Erics cock repeatedly brushed against the sweet spot. Taking the boys reddened erection in hand he began to pump in time with his thrusts, grinning as the youth screamed out in his pleasure.

‘Eric!’

He saw Karl move round the head of the table, his large cock in hand as he pulled and twisted on the swollen flesh; enjoying watching his brother rutting with the brown haired boy. That alone was almost enough to send him over the edge. Grabbing the boys hips tightly his violently pounded into the tight channel; grinning as he heard the lad scream out as he came, milky fluid covering the heaving chest. He felt the hot channel contract around him as Orlando rode out his climax, gripping him tightly until he too came, spilling his seed into the velvety heat. He heard Karl grunt as he found his release, directing his cum so it fell onto the boys’ sweaty body. 

Spent, Eric withdrew from the quivering body; allowing Orlando to pull his shaking legs to his chest curling up onto his side, while the Norseman pulled his trousers over his softening member. Eric watched as Orlando began to cry softly to himself, hugging his knees tightly as brokenly whispered in words Eric couldn’t understand. Grabbing his discarded belt and sword off the ground he felt his ire rising as he noticed Karl had approached the comely youth, running his hands along the shaking back before slipping his fingers between clenched thighs. Withdrawing his blood coated fingers he stared in fascination at the cooling red liquid, before slowly taking each digit into his mouth, tongue eagerly licking at the sticky mix of blood and semen.

‘You taste good my brother.’ Karl smirked as Eric angrily tied his belt around his waist, enjoying getting a rise out of his elder sibling.

Eric retrieved the discarded tunic and trousers off the dusty floor, throwing them over the shaking form still lying on the table.

‘Get dressed’. He growled in annoyance as the youth simply stared blankly back at him, making no effort to re-clothe himself…or to move in general. Grabbing the boy roughly by the arms he dragged him into an upright position, ignoring the cry of pain that escaped bloodless lips as pressure was applied to his torn area. Tears spilled anew as Eric dragged the tunic over the mop of brown curls; the strange muttering continuing. Eric glanced up suddenly as he heard his name spoken. Looking into the boys’ confused watering brown eyes he didn’t need to understand the words to know the question. Why?

Why indeed? What could he say really? Because you were a spoil of battle? Because it is the way of my people? Because when I saw you….lying there…I just couldn’t help myself? Eric grunted in annoyance at himself. Orlando was not the first person he had taken unwillingly; so why was he the one he felt so guilty about? Pulling the youth off the table he helped him slip back into his trousers, gaze sturdily avoiding the large red patches staining the inside of his thighs. He could hear Karl moving behind him; crashes as he carelessly threw around pots in search for any hidden valuables.

‘What shall we do with the boy?’ Karl questioned his brother, tearing off a chunk of bread he had found stashed away. Rutting always made him hungry.

Eric unconsciously ran his hand lightly through the boys’ hair; taken aback when he was rewarded by a small watery smile. By all rights the boy should be trying to get away from him, not nuzzling into his hand. For the first time Eric wondered if there was something slightly wrong with the beautiful boy; his actions continuously childlike despite his age. 

‘I shall take him with us.’ 

‘I’m glad you said that! I cannot wait ride that tight body again….’ Karl was surprised when Eric looked sharply at him, his eyes blazing.

‘No brother. This one is mine, and mine alone. He is not one of your toys….understand?’ 

‘But brother! He was mine first…’ Karl stepped back as Eric quickly placed himself in front of him; swallowing thickly as he caught a glimpse of what it was that made Eric such an intimidating foe.

‘I understand brother…I shall not touch him’. Backing down Eric clasped the blond Norseman on the arm in thanks, before turning and grasping the youth by the wrist. He paused briefly as his brother spoke behind him, ‘I shall not…but you cannot guarantee no one else will.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orlando desperately tried to stay on his feet as he was pulled along; his wrist surrounded by Erics’ larger hand. Each step was agonising as the burning pain continued to radiate from between his legs. He had no idea where he was going, but had little choice but to follow the larger man. His head swung around wildly as he attempted to catch a sight of his sisters, but with little success. He watched as flames danced along the thatched roofs, filling the air with thick smoke as the invaders hurried among the buildings, loading a stolen cart with foodstuffs and blankets. Stumbling, he cried out as he fell to his knees; the pain too great to continue. Sobbing uncontrollably he dropped his head to the ground, the events of the night finally taking their toll. He missed his grandmother, his two little sisters….even his father; his body ached fiercely from the abuse inflicted on him and….he was scared….oh so scared. He couldn’t see any familiar faces among the passing figures; unwilling to look at the bodies surrounding him on the ground just in case. 

Orlando wailed loudly as he felt strong hands grab him round the waist; hoisting and swinging him round till he found himself carried in large arms, his head resting against Erics’ broad shoulder. Wrapping his arms around the Norsemans’ neck, he turned his face, burying it into the rough material of his tunic, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out….everything. For some reason he felt safe here, cradled against the warm chest. 

Orlando couldn’t really remember much of the abuse he suffered not long ago, only that the large blond man had hurt him badly, whilst Eric had made him feel….wonderful. Snuggling closer he felt himself drifting off, exhaustion taking a firm hold on his shattered mind as he was carried away from the ruins of his former life.


End file.
